


Epiphany

by MarbleGlove



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, the joker dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleGlove/pseuds/MarbleGlove
Summary: Heroes couldn’t be allowed to kill. Not heroes who wore masks, who were symbols rather than men.But Joker needed to die.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Batman, Tim Drake & Red Robin, Tim Drake & morals
Comments: 66
Kudos: 333





	Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I haven't kept up with these comics in years so this is mostly based on the fandom. 
> 
> I have been trying to focus on a different story/fandom entirely and just needed to get this out of my head to make space. Why is my muse so easily distracted???

It was an epiphany.

That turning point when a pattern collapsing into chaos suddenly forms an entirely different pattern.

Red Robin watched as Batman fought Red Hood while the Joker laughed in the background.

He and Batman had arrived just as Red Hood was about to execute the Joker and only a batarang thrown to disarm Red Hood had prevented the cold-blooded murder. Batman did not kill and he did not allow the other vigilantes in Gotham to kill.

The Joker had killed hundred of people in particularly grotesque ways, had tortured thousands, had terrorized millions. One of those deaths had been Robin’s, had been Jason Todd’s, before his equally torturous revival and reappearance as Red Hood. And yet, Red Hood could not be allowed to take murderous revenge.

It was a moral line that Timothy Drake completely agreed with. It was the reason why Timothy Drake had gone to Bruce Wayne so many years ago, in order to make sure the Batman never crossed that line. In the wake of the second Robin’s death, Batman had grown increasingly violent and Timothy’s presence as his third Robin had been one of the only things that held him back from murder.

Timothy had known what he was doing, sort of, when he was a child. It had been an epiphany: knowing that Batman needed a Robin in order to stay a hero. He needed a connection to hope and youth and joy that didn’t come naturally to him. It hadn’t really come naturally to Tim either, but he knew how to present those emotions, at least a little, at least enough to force Batman to reign himself in.

The difference between a heroic vigilante and a villain was that moral line that said they did not kill. They were symbols more than men. It was why the second Robin had been able to replace the first one, and why Timothy had been able to replace the second one. It wasn’t about who they were as individuals. It was about the symbol. And the symbol had to have uncompromising morals.

They didn’t kill. Not even people who needed to die. Not even the Joker.

Batman couldn’t kill the Joker and couldn’t let Red Hood kill the Joker either.

Even when the Joker desperately needed to die.

Even as the Joker laughed at being rescued by the Batman.

Timothy had become Robin in order to make sure that Batman didn’t cross the line. And he had succeeded. Batman had finally internalized that line. He still needed a Robin to maintain hope and youth, but he had Damian. Damian who had been raised to be a killer and who Bruce was changing. Bruce was actively teaching someone else to not kill. He wouldn’t go down the path of becoming a killer.

Timothy’s work as Robin had been accomplished. It wasn’t necessary anymore. Not the original need, at least. There was always more need for heroes, but maybe, maybe Timothy didn’t need to be Robin anymore.

Heroes couldn’t be allowed to kill. Not heroes who wore masks, who were symbols rather than men.

But Joker needed to die.

He started stripping off his costume.

There were only the four of them in the building right now. Batman and Red Hood fighting each other, the Joker tied to a chair laughing as he watched the fight. And Timothy Drake, 20-year-old civilian now that he was out of his Red Robin costume, his face bare to the world. He shivered in his underwear.

He picked up Red Hood’s gun, from where the Batman had knocked it aside.

He checked that it was loaded, it was, and that the safety was off, it was as well. And then he shot the Joker dead. Two bullets to the head.

The Joker was dead before he even noticed.

The gun was knocked out of his hands before Timothy was able to shoot a third time.

Knocked away by another batarang.

“Red Robin!” The Batman growled.

“No,” Timothy said. “No, Red Robin was a hero. And heroes don’t kill.”

“You!”

Timothy moved slowly, telegraphing every move, as he picked up the burner cell phone he had kept in his costume.

He called 9-1-1 and waited for the operator to answer.

He wasn’t quite sure what Batman was doing, or what Red Hood was doing either. Their fight had stopped as soon as Timothy had taken the shots.

“What’s the nature of your emergency?”

The world was still crystal clear, the actions that needed to be done obvious and the world calm.

“I am Timothy Drake, CEO of Drake Industries. I am at the fun house of the abandoned amusement park near the docks. I just killed the Joker. I need the police and an ambulance.”

He heard the gasp on the other end of the line.

“I’m sending the police and ambulance to you now. Please stay on the line with me.”

“I’ll remain here, the gun I used is on the ground outside of arms reach for me. But I need to hang up and call my attorney.”

“Sir!”

Timothy hung up. He finally turned to the Batman. “You should take the Red Robin suit with you. This was not the action of a masked vigilante. I will face justice for my actions.”

The Batman’s eyes burned, but he also gathered up the suit without a word and left.

Batman had been his mentor for a decade. Maybe following Tim’s directions was a sign of agreeing. But Tim guessed that it was instead merely Batman removing any evidence of his own involvement.

Timothy would deal with that later. He called the head of Drake Industry’s PR department next, waking the man up. “I just killed the Joker. Wake up the rest of the department and start brainstorming ways to spin this. I want multiple proposals by the time I’m done with the police.”

“What?” The shriek on the other end of the line matched the sound of approaching sirens. Timothy smiled. “You might want to turn on the news.”

He hung up and made a third call, to the head of his legal department next. “I just killed The Joker at the abandoned fun house near the docks. I’ve already called the police to come get me and process the scene.”

He could hear the rustle of clothes in the background and her voice started out rough but was clear of even the hint of sleep by the time she finished speaking. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. If you’re not there, when I arrive, I’ll follow you to the police station. Don’t say anything to anyone until I’m present.”

“Too late. I already told them that I killed him. And he was restrained when I did so.”

“Don’t say anything more!”

“I want a defense that distinguishes between civilians and heroes. Masked heroes do not kill.” He was speaking to his attorney, but also to the Red Hood who was still standing near him, just watching. It was hard to tell what was happening behind that hood of his, but Tim rather thought he’d won this round in whatever their ongoing conflict was. “Civilians who take personal responsibility for their actions, should have the right to defend themselves and others without becoming vigilantes.”

The Red Hood suddenly jerked his head sideways and then ran around a corner, disappearing from sight.

“We will discuss your defense later. For now, be quiet and don’t tell anyone anything.”

“Sir?” The policemen had arrived. The one in front of him was removing his jacket in order to offer it to him, to cover his bare chest and shoulders. Others were gathered around the body of the Joker, already taking staged photos with the corpse. Mocking the Joker and pretending to be brave in their audacity with his remains. Timothy wondered if the Joker had ever booby-trapped his own body like he had so many others, but didn’t say anything. He was a civilian here.

“Thank you,” Timothy accepted the jacket. Gotham was cold and he wasn’t used to being without his heavy armor covering.

“I need to take you to the police station, to ask you about what happened here. Is that okay?” The man spoke gently as if to a victim. Timothy must have looked like a victim, young and pale and nearly naked and with scars and bruises all over his body.

But he was alive and the Joker was dead.

“Yes, of course. I have my attorney on the phone. I’m supposed to wait for her.”

“Why don’t I speak with her?”

He offered the policeman the phone. It was a burner, there was nothing on there that could be used against him anyway.

“Ma’am. I’m taking your client to an ambulance outside. Do you want to meet us here, or at the hospital or at the police station. We can meet wherever works best for you and your client.”

Timothy let his eyes close at that and smiled slightly. How many police had the Joker killed or threatened? He would get Gotham style justice.

The DA would never press charges against him. It had been cold-blooded and calculated murder, an execution, but by the end of the night, he might not even be credited with the kill. Layers upon layers of corruption blocking any real attempt to achieve justice, but he had done his best and was satisfied.

The Joker was dead, but so too was Red Robin, and that was a fair price to pay, because Jason Todd has his revenge and Timothy Drake lived on.


End file.
